It comes up, a punch line inevitable in conversations about things like school buses or lockers: I’m home schooled. No, I didn’t go to a normal school. Yes, ha ha, I did wear pajamas sometimes. Out of pity, my housemates recently threw a prom-themed party and rigged it so that I won prom queen. Yes, I was ecstatic.
You are driving down the highway, late at night. The only thing working is the radio, and the station choices are both static and sparse: to discover a song you connect with is serendipity. But then, cheesy and rakish, it comes on: the perfect song.
Ladies and Gentleman of the jury, I bring you Sufjan Stevens. Reindeer headbands and Santa hats are most commonly associated with your Grandma’s kitschy attic — but at his concert Sunday night, these things were the centerpiece of Sufjan’s performance. In the audience, there were more tacky sweaters than at a faculty holiday party.
My complicated relationship with the word “literally” began earlier this year. Two of my best friends began a Twitter account called Literally a Handle, which retweets overheard misuses of the word (my personal favorite being “my personal trainer’s legs are literally tree trunks”).